For The Bloggers Only

Firstly:

Apologies to those who don’t Blog – most of this post will exclude you.  It doesn’t happen often, bitches, so quit whining.

I’ve been blogging for three years now.  Granted, not all of it will be proven here, but it’s been three years.  Trust me, they’ve been three years of my life that makes me wonder how the other 20 something years were dealt with.  You see, although blogging seems insane to some of my loved ones, they all read me and wonder how on earth I could possibly share so much of *Me* with the internet, people I don’t know, people I will never know, even lurkers who never make themselves known. 

My answer?

It is truly therapeutic and cathartic for me.  Before my mom came across my Blog, she had no idea what my feelings were on life, love, family and Kiera dying.  I opened my heart up and wrote about her death.  I cried tears of absolute heartbreak and raw emotion when I was forced to confront what was actually going on inside me.  I just didn’t know it until I sat back and read the words I’d written.  When my mom finally read them, she cried too, of happiness because she realized that I wasn’t as zombie-like in my mourning as she had thought. 

J.No, my latest and possibly greatest male friend said to me the other day that I write mountains but say very little verbally.  He’s so right.  I am a lot quieter in the flesh.  Probably because my mouth is quite occupied with exchanging feet most of the time.  Flea and I had a fall out not so long ago.  We didn’t speak for a whole five days.  Once we’d kissed and made up, she said something to me that encompassed what most of my loved ones do: 

“I kept reading your Blog to see how you were feeling because I know you’re so good at showing your true self in real life”.

I express on my Blog what I don’t in real life, which reminds me of something someone once said, “I am my own biggest reader”.  So yes, although I interact with everyone who participates here – ultimately these words are all for myself.  Except for this particular post.  To which I am finally brought to my goddamned point;

I’ve decided to hold a contest.  The winner gets a free weekend away with me in, say, the year 2010 which is when I will have made my millions and earned fame from my Published Book Sales.  If you are male, you could probably choose whether or not we get to make happiness by the body*.  If you’re female, well – sorry for you.  You can also have a nifty little badge if you want in the meantime. 

On your blog, in essay format, English only, I want to know the following:

1.      what / who brought you to blogging

2.      what you get out of it for yourself***

3.      if you have a theme / process you follow when blogging and why

4.      your standards on blogging, if you draw a line at writing about any particular thing****.

5.   the best thing to come of your blogging thus far

Now, don’t forget to link back here so that I know you’ve done this.  How else am I meant to judge you for being a crap contestant? 

  – - – - – -

* Kidding, man. Sheesh**. 

** I would totally be making the choice, not you.

*** And don’t even try and give me that shit about making friends, rah rah rah – get off this website and go find people in the flesh!  Or join person.com. Loser.

**** For instance, I refuse to blog about personal sexual encounters.  I have no qualms telling you about other peoples though.  Like this one time, in band camp…

There she was, with a ribbon in her hair, singing doo wa deedi dum

See?  I can stand up for myself.  I know I’m nice and stuff, but if you fuck with me, I’ll fuck with you.  He didn’t expect me to actually do anything when he called me a CNUT (rearranged) or a liar.  Or how about that sentence of bringing up Andrew just to piss me off?  Fuck him.  He’s banned, he’s out of pocket, and he’s lost a string of business deals just because he was alllll fucked up.

My friends know that I go quiet when I’m angry.  Thats right, I said FRIENDS.  How many of those do you think he has?  None, I can assure you.  So, bottom line, Crappo Catto – you pissed me off.  I dealt with it.  You’ve run around your computer screen following all my incoming links of support and discussion and I bet you sat there with your finger in your mouth going ‘what the fuck?!  I didn’t expect that!‘  You no longer have me as a client, nor a “close friend” and you’re probably less likely to find anyone else out there on this here internetz who would willingly believe a word you said.  Unlucky, chucky.  Next time try not being such a complete fucking doos, m’kay?

Just to clear the record – my integrity is still intact.  Yes, my mate might have dealt with diamonds, but he’s legal now.  As for my last job – hysterical to think that I was supposedly being paid illegal money.  Pah!  I worked hard, and so did my boss.  Even the offshore account this asshole brings up was all done by the book.  So much for lacking integrity.  I cannot actually comprehend some people think I am this dudes alter ego!  Good fucking gracious.

I hereby declare this war over.  I also declare myself the winner.  I came out on top, dignity intact, and despite embarrassing bullshit being said, I still hold my head up high.  I can continue with my writing (which if you actually don’t believe is truthful – you shouldn’t be here) and enjoy myself. Yes.  Sorry for you, bru.

Now, onto greater things.

Welcome back to my old readers.  Please stick around to the new ones, and remember that my one true statement is ‘I am me, and no one else’.  If you cannot deal with this, have a nice life.  I don’t need you here.  To quote dear old darling 6000 – I am my number one reader.  Character flaws include spelling errors and typos.  I write because its my passion.  I blog because its fun.  If the fun times stop, so do I.  I am here for your entertainment, and I love what I do.  So should you.  I understand that I won’t please everyone, and that really is okay.  As long as I am left in peace, I’ll leave you in yours too.

Please forgive me for comment moderations.  I am sure you can understand why, given the circumstances.  I promise to have no more Catto talk after this, because, damn – I am SO sick of it.

Anyway, I was accosted by a giant killer moth on Friday night, then a lizard fell onto me from the roof and got stuck between my toes.  Can you imagine how I turned into a girl and screamed?  I can.  So can Kim.  Sorry hun.  Hope your ear has stopped buzzing.  I am moving to Durban this weekend!  Yay!  Wish me and Cath luck, I’m sure we will need it.  At some point, after we’ve recovered from the SheenaPina party.

Final note, a special mention of thanks to Attorney Paul Jacobson who has advised me through this ordeal.  Thank you to everyone (you know who you all are) for your assistance.  He might have held me back for a week, but those who matter know the truth and thats what counts.  The calls of support and love and messages I have received have all meant so much to me.  Thank you.

Insp(eye)rd

Through bad decisions, wrong choices, catch22 options and silly situations, she found herself at a crossroad of life. Her will had been challenged, her mind been stimulated, her ideas been fed. She is undergoing a phase of change.

Arguments, crying sessions, hysteria and bonding ensued. After some time, they knew each one would be remembered. Far too much judgement came into play. The one she wanted, couldn’t stay. The rest supported her in her time of need. They became her friends, her confidants, her worst critics.

No guarantees, no warrantees, no quick solution to unanswered questions, untold lies, and hard kept secrets. What should she do, in this world of uncertainty? Should she fly when being cooped, should she run when being caged, should she fight when being cornered?

Some people get it, others don’t. Fighting for survival and having fun while getting to know herself. Things happen for a reason. She’s come to appreciate this. Her third eye is out and in full force. She refuses to apologise for being herself. She wants to be free.

She wants to be, Me.

A chapter in the book ‘If these walls could talk’ Copyright, SheBee productions 2008.

Bleh blah blah

Nothing huge to talk about today. I am looking for a professional critic to critique my work, though, so if anyone out there in cyberland knows where I can come right, please let me know. Google is useless in SA for this particular department.

My hypno session yesterday was…weird. I felt uncomfortable the whole time and felt like a big fake everytime I opened my mouth. Next mission is to do cranio sacral therapy. Not so keen, but I’ll try anything once in the persuit of happyness*.

Its Friday today. No excitement of the weekend ahead, just plain relief that I get two days off from this hell I call work.

My car is dirty. Anybody offering to wash it in a thong for me? Guys only, dudes. Send me photo’s and I’ll call you, don’t call me.

Oh, please send money. I am broke. Broke broke broke broke broke!

The End.

* I love that movie!